


Upon Meeting

by Canadihipster (Atomograd)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Like, Really fluffy, really really fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 20:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/739660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atomograd/pseuds/Canadihipster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You are aware I’ve been able to see you this entire time, yes?”</p><p>“Exactly as purrlanned.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Upon Meeting

It had been a series of months since they’d first encountered the huntress, at that point. A stalking creature of interest the stealth, the woman had remained on the edges of the crowed for the most part, finally crawling her way forth and taking refuge in a tree all but directly above the Psiioniic’s head. She wasn’t quite going out of her way to remain hidden but, as conversation easily revealed, she wasn’t all too terribly worried over such. Catching their attention was what she had wanted in the first place, but disrupting them while he had the few gathered so enraptured as he spun a tale of times of peace and love would be extremely rude.

To say that he was surprised when she asked to tag along was an understatement. Elated, as well - She proved to be great fun, laughing and joking despite her calculating eyes, gossiping with his mother and discussing various things. She seemed to be well refined in some skills - Hunting, for instance, tracking and capturing and the like - and all but ignorant to how to preform certain others. The moment his mother had gotten out her sewing set with the promise of proper meal cooking later, he new she was going to have her hands full learning what the older troll was willing to teach.

The Psiioniic had been less willing to warm up to her, but that was to be expected from him. It took a much longer period of time - “Are you sure she didn’t poison our food?” “Yes, do not worry-” “What, do you have some weird ability to tell exactly the composition of every amount of foodstuff just by smelling it?” - but was well worth it, considering how well they hit it off after that. She was just as witty as he was when she so pleased, both equally brilliant on the topic of pranks and mischief. She was able to rebuff his deadpan sarcasm nearly as well as the Signless himself could at that point, even the Dolorosa thoroughly amused by listening to them banter.

She was blunt. She didn’t hesitate the next night, sun set and them sitting across from eachother, to ask if she could listen to his ideals. He was more than willing to agree, the two lapsing into discussion for uncountable hours, both surprised by how long they’d lasted when the Dolorosa tapped her son’s shoulder at the very break of dawn and asked when they planned on sleeping, if at all. They’d laughed, still amiably talking amongst themselves quietly when they’d settled down for a sleep cycle. She had seemed surprised when he explained they usually just piled together and that she was welcome to as well, the day spent with his head across her stomach and her hands in his hair, the Psiioniic splayed over his own legs and Dolorosa closer to the Disciple, the two of them speaking for a while before they fell asleep as well.

When he’d awoken, she was gone.

There had been an hour or so of subtle fretting over her well being, the Dolorosa calming every fear he had for her, the Psiioniic tossing in comments that, for the most part, served to make his friend laugh. He almost choked on his own spit when she’d waltz back into their comfy little cave with a large beast clenched between her teeth and hands splattered with blood.

-

The Disciple’s fascination with the Signless’s world grew daily, it seemed. She was always listening to every noise he uttered, kept herself close at night to catch any of his sleeping mumbles. It was her who first suggested he begin recording his thoughts, her who’d laughed and ruffled his hair when he’d bashfully explained that he tripped up over himself too much when he tried to write and speak at the same time. For a while, she’d even tried to teach him to write more quickly, but it was easier for her to take everything down herself. She never seemed to put her book down once she had it in her hands, a gift from his mother as a formal welcoming, received with a strong embrace and her own babbling of thanks.

One night, he’d asked if he could look through it for a little. She hadn’t minded in the slightest, busy cringing and doing her best not to whine and give up as she ran her fingers through her long, tangled mane, attempting to get all the knots out. The only time they’d ever used a brush she’d nearly screeched, the bristles all getting caught and tugging. His Disciple’s hand writing wasn’t as neat as his mother’s, less elegant and more quickly done, but easy to read all the same. Along most pages, there were little notes and doodles - Recordings of his facial expressions sometimes, little habits he had at certain parts, a raising of his voice or a falter in his wording. She even had parts where he’d repeated what he’d said previously in an alternate fashion recorded.

The Signless had watched her in a comfortable quiet for nearly half an hour, black hair cascading over her shoulder and down her back, eyes shut and lips parted slightly as she did her best to get all the tangles out. Eventually, he’d simply sat down behind her and took the liberty of working on half her hair as she did the rest, the night somehow ending with them styling his shorter, curlier hair into a multitude of silly fashions.

The next night she’d taken his face in her hands after they’d had a minor disagreement, pressed her lips to his forehead and let him lace his fingers together behind her back, palms pressed to her tailbone. He head been appalled at the habits of trolls killing beasts for fun, she’d explained it was more often than not for practice rather than such, he stated killing beasts was wrong and no lifeform had any right to take the life of any other. She had gotten angry, seemingly on the verge of shouting when she tried to make him understand it was the way life worked, that nature worked that way. That

“We can’t just let ourselves starve! Sometimes, we have to snuff out those weakpurr than us - There cannot be pity and mercy given simply beclaws we need to live and they are not as fit fur fighting!”

He’d looked at her incredulously, obviously startled, and had sounded more hurt that she’d ever remembered him being before.

“I suppose I am not worth such things by your standards.”

-

It took longer than he thought it would to explain how he viewed the quadrants. She was understanding, more patient than she was with other topics, but seemed to have the need to know every last thing about his mindset on such a thing. Romance, he discovered, was an important topic towards her hobbies at times, something she took fairly seriously, as many did. The Signless didn’t quite seem to fully understand why any of them were so caught up in the system, but she did her best to explain drones and the Mother Grub more in depth than even the Dolorosa had without making it sound as if she were trying to scare him.

Horrified, he’d mused who could ever want to engage in such things, she’d laughed and said they didn’t have much of a choice before both lapsed into some time for thought. By the end of that night, she was seated in his lap, his head cradled against her chest and arms around her waist, the Psiioniic flicking the sides of both their heads to wake them up later on and state that it was time to move along once more.

-

All that had been so long ago, it felt. Between those times and current, they’d attracted more attention than they thought they would, were on certain wanted lists, and were being pursued by the higher blooded castes. Despite, they still managed to have some amounts of fun, still preached, and the Disciple had told him she loved him for the first time.

**Author's Note:**

> Re-posted from my Tumblr; a gift for a friend.


End file.
